I have been incognito for longer than I care to remember, but I am finding my way back a little at a time by caressing the tips of my toes in the water. This is my first comment in a long time.

I read your post, and unless I am way off base, you have experienced a soul altering loss. In such circumstances, most of us respond in one of two ways—either we are too uncomfortable to confront the issue, so we say nothing, or we offer words of comfort that, as they escape our mouths, we realize sound trite and disingenuous, the very opposite of what we intended. (Admittedly, over the years, I have been guilty of both.)

I suppose that it is true that as we grow older, we grow wiser, because I decided that the proper response was one which I would want to hear. Surprisingly, it is simple really. The key is to concentrate on the needs of the person left behind. Of course, how much you say depends upon your relationship with the person.

So to you I say, “I am profoundly sorry for your loss. Based on the tribute that you posted, I wish that I had met him. It is clear that you and your Dad had a especially close relationship. I hope that the blessings that the relationship brought to your life, as well as beautiful memories that you shared, will provide some solace during this difficult time. As I, too, experienced a devastating loss, the most important thing that I can offer is that grief has no set timeframe, and let no one cajole, convince or guilt you into feeling otherwise. Finally, although some might find this trite, he will always be with you. I say this, because I can directly attest to it. In my case, it took years for me to actually believe it.

Moreover, you need not apologize for the way you feel. You exhibit much strength in your ability to speak from the heart, and those mere words are filled will love, loss, sorrow, gratitude, and all the other complex emotions and feelings, some, as yet, unidentified. Although, I don’t know how you define “living words,” your post, in its entirety, with its raw, visceral honesty, grief and uncertainty are the epitome of “living words.” During this time, I wish you well and that may you find peace.

Lydia,
Your beautiful thoughts here are a testament to why life is awash in light. I read your words several times to make sure I didn’t miss anything. So many poignant sentiments and kindnesses. Lydia, it’s selfless expression, like what you’ve shared here, that keeps a troubled heart positive.
I don’t think I can accurately sum up how your words have gripped my soul this day. I thank you beyond the stars for reaching out and ‘caressing the tips your toes in the water.’
I am sorry for the loss you’ve had in your life too.
I thank you and wish you a peaceful return to your writing and happiness in your life.
am:)